Timing
by Guilty3
Summary: So this is my idea of what would've happened if Melchior ran a little faster from the Reformatory. I know I've neglected this story but I promise to keep up with it. Read and review, amabo te!
1. Chapter 1

Melchior thought she would never get there. He was waiting at the graveyard, holding his breath. Waiting. What if she doesn't come? Melchi thought. As much as he wanted to see her, he had no idea what he was going to do with Wendla and their child. Hearing those words from the boys in the Reformatory as they held him down, about a child, whose parents were him and Wendla. When this child came to be weeks ago, Melchior contemplated to himself that he was both a man and a child. How can a person who is simultaneously a man and a child raise a child? Melchi decided that he and Wendla could do it together. But how? Melchior knew he was smart but he was only 15 and Wendla was almost 15 as well. He would have to find away. He had to. After what had happened to Moritz and the marker of his death right under Melchior's feet, their child should especially live in a society, where self-expression was allowed. Melchior looked at his pocket watch. 12:18. He was getting very worried. He felt a breeze blow across his back. Suddenly there were two taps on his shoulder. He turned around and Wendla was there. She was wearing a loose dress with a warm scarf.

"Wendla!" Melchior exclaimed.

"I have missed you so much, Melchi!" Wendla said as she wrapped her arms around him into a warm embrace. He returned that hug and gently lifted her off her feet. She kissed his cheek and even after the experience they had shared together, he blushed.

" Are you happy to be home,?" Wendla asked as if Melchior had taken a vacation into the country and they were back to doing community service together.

"I'm happy to be here, with you in my arms and our child," Melchior whispered.

Wendla didn't know what to say but he always knew what to say. She felt save with him behind the Church, where Wendla and Melchior learned "the rules." But in a hayloft , merely yards away they had broken them.

"Melchior, Mama is going to send me to someone." Wendla said "She's says he will help us with our child . Tomorrow night we're meeting him in his office under the tavern…"

Melchior cut into the middle of her sentence "…no. Wendla, you can't go with them. They're going to hurt you. Both of you. I don't want to lose you. Again."

"Then what shall I do?" Wendla said, in a very confused tone.

"You and I have to runaway."


	2. Chapter 2

"You and I have to run away."

Runaway? How could I? I was only 14. Then I remembered. I now had a child. I had to be responsible. Melchior's eyes burned into mine. I remembered how when we were younger I would sometimes catch him looking at me during Choir. I would never tell anyone that. It was almost as if it was our little secret. Those cute little looks. The way he was looking at me that night was something completely different. He was determined but I could see that he was a little scared. I was too. We were merely adolescents. Not long before this I didn't even know where children came from. Now I was going to have one, with Melchior. Melchior was the one who came up with the fun games to play even if they were a tad dangerous. He was the one who taught me to love and be loved. I wasn't really sure how to respond.

"Alright."

He looked at me, very concerned.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He questioned.

"Yes," I said. I did not know what I wanted. All I was sure I wanted was to have my child and care for it and love it. I hoped that was what Melchior wanted as well. Would he have come back if he didn't? I didn't think so. He kissed me the same way he had in the hayloft. I didn't mind one bit. I even kissed him back. We finally broke apart and he took my hand. We started to walk towards the section of houses. The air was cool but felt nice.

"Wendla," Melchi broke the silence "if we're going to runaway we have to get ready tonight. I checked the port before I made it to town and there is a boat leaving tomorrow morning."

Oh my Lord! Running away was one thing but leaving your home of your whole life was another. I couldn't back down, though. I didn't want anyone to hurt my child and if that meant packing up in the dark of night and never looking back, then so be it.

" Let's stop at my house first," I said through some stray tears. He silently nodded. Mama and Father were light sleepers so we would have to be careful. I guided Melchior to the vine- holder in our garden.

"Follow me," I said.

I climbed up with ease because I had always been scaling walls, behind Mama's back, of course. Melchior followed me and we crossed the first tier of the roof to the window of my bedroom. I opened it and went in with Melchi in tow. It was neat, the only way it=2 0would be tolerated. Melchi sat down on the window sill as I went in search of a suitable bag. I found a carpet-bag of my mother's that she never used and probably wouldn't be missed. Like me. I had always been a nuisance in this house. I wouldn't be any longer. I walked back into my room and packed. I didn't really notice what I was shoving into the bag. I was about to close the bag when I remember something. I quickly turned around and got my Kindergarten dress. Soon enough it would be obsolete but it was a symbol of my childhood. I folded it carefully and placed it on top of everything. Once I shut the bag, Melchi stood.

"Do you need a moment alone?"

"No," I replied. "Definitely not."

He let me climb out first and, being the perfect gentleman he was, climbed down the last part so he could help me down. He picked up my bag and grabbed my hand. There was something so unbelievably comfortable and safe about the warmth of his hand and his whole body for that matter. Before we started to speak to each other, we were in front of the Gabor household. We walked in the door like it was another day. The house was dark and silent. We walked up the stairs and into Melchi's room. His smell engulfed me. It was just so enticing. He got out a big duffel bag and started packing not just clothes but a lot of books. Before I knew it we were back in the hallway. He motioned for me to be very quiet and to stay still. He opened a door and walked in. I saw Frau Gabor, asleep. I could only imagine how hard it must have been for her to leave Melchior at that wretched place. It was going to be even worse to go to the Reformatory and learn that he left. He came back and closed the door softly. We left the house and started to walk to the train station which was about 10 miles away. We talked about things I have never talked about before simply because I was never asked. When he talked I listened a nd when I talked he listened. It truly was a beautiful thing. We arrived a the train station 10 minutes before the train was set to depart. Melchior pulled out an envelope with about 100 dollars. He bought us tickets and we boarded the train. We found seats and were at the post in 20 minutes. We got off the train to see a big boat and a crowd of people trying to get on the boat. Melchi and I rushed over to the ticket office and purchased two tickets in steerage. We got on the line for steerage and found our room, which had two bunk beds. The other people we were rooming with had not arrived yet. We set down our bags.

"Can we get some air?" I said.

"Of course," Melchi answered. We climbed up the stairs to the deck and sat down on a bench. Melchior put his arm around me and the boat picked up speed. I just realized I forgot to ask a very important question.

"Where are we going?"

"New York."


	3. Chapter 3

Hey everyone! I apologize for not updating this for about a month. Thank you so much for the reviews and just reading this at all! If anyone can think of a better title for this please lemme know!

So this chapter will be from Melchior's point of view…

"New York," I said. Saying it aloud and especially to Wendla made it that much more real for me. It was actually happening. We really did run away. We really were on a boat to New York City. We actually were going to be parents.

Frau Bergmann woke at Eight AM, which was late for her. She had fallen into a deep sleep. Lately, she couldn't sleep at all, knowing that her beautiful and young daughter had done this. The more she though about it, it wasn't that Wendla had done this necessarily; it was that she set Wendla up for this. She realized this now. She was able to sleep because, by tonight, everything would be resolved. Wendla will be able to keep being a child. Frau wouldn't have to be embarrassed by the mistake. Gregor told her that Wendla had left already. Little did Frau know that he didn't mean she left for school but for a new country and new life. Frau went about her business for the rest of the day. Dr. Schmidt had told Frau the day before that Wendla shouldn't eat anything before the surgery and not to come before nightfall. Frau explained this to Wendla, never unveiling that there would be a surgery. Frau didn't think anything of it when Wendla didn't come home after school. Then it got dark. Wendla didn't come home. Frau went up to Wendla's room and found that things were missing. Not knowing what to say or do, she closed the door behind her.

It was nice on the deck. The sun was just rising. I had Wendla with me. We were heading for nothing but opportunity. Looking around, I saw all kinds of people. There were high-class types with suits and pipes. There were children playing a game as their parents looked on with care. There were lower-class people who were just taking in the ocean and the boat itself. I just thought about how I was never happy at home. My immediate family was perfectly fine. However, the educators and even some of my peers had given into this conformist mindset. Looking at the diverse group all gathered together helped me to figure out we were heading for variety that would help us thrive. I tried not to think about leaving behind everything I knew and instead tried to wrap my mind around the present. My arm was hooked around Wendla's shoulder as we rode off into the salty sea air. She laid her head on my shoulder. We were at a beautiful peace and were at rhythm with the waves. All of a sudden, Wendla stood and walked to the railings at the edge of the deck. I stood and followed her, hoping she wasn't having second thoughts about leaving home.

"Wendla?" I inquired.

Before she could answer, the food she ate yesterday answered for her. Her head remained hung low. I couldn't decipher if this reaction was from the motion or the baby. I tried to comfort her by rubbing her back. What could I do? I had done enough. Looking at the big picture I was the one who caused all of this. I got Wendla pregnant and convinced her to leave her home. It was my doing. She finally raised her head. And smiled.

"That wasn't so bad." She said.

"Has this happened before, Wendla?"

She nodded. "Pretty much ever since Moritz's funeral. At first I thought it was because I was so upset about him. Then the doctor came into to see me while you were in the Reformatory. He gave me pills but they didn't help with my stomach. I have to go lay down." She said feebly.

"Of course." I agreed.

We went back down to our room, where we found our roommates. It was two women who at the most were 10 years older than us.

"Hi," I said rather sheepishly, for my normal disposition. " I'm Melchior." I went to shake their hands.

" I'm Wendla."

" I am Judith." The shorter women with the dark hair said.

" I'm Ingrid." The other introduced herself. She was a bit taller and had a very angular face.

I saw them looking at me and then looking at Wendla. I could pretty much see the thoughts. "They look nothing like brother and sister. They're too young to be married or any kind of couple. " I grabbed the sack I packed and climbed to the top bunk. I shuffled through and found the English book my father bought. His office had a few collegues in Britan and he just wanted to know the basics. I now needed to know the basics and beyond. I was pretty skilled at Latin and Greek so learning English would be no challenge. I started memorizing and studying. The ladies left and I leaned over the bunk to see Wendla sleeping. She looked so utterly peaceful. I kept reading further and further into the book. My focus began to drift and I thought about what our life would be like. Let's see the hayloft first occurred in March. So the baby would be born in January. It was June. We had six months to create a home for a child. With no money. I would have to find a job first thing. Right after that, we would have to find a place to live. I read about how when immigrants settled in America they would stay with their "own people." I wasn't sure if that's what I wanted for us. In all honesty I was sure we could afford it. After paying for our tickets, there was only about 60 US dollars left. I had no idea what that meant or how much that could buy. What kind of work could I get? I spoke German and very little English. I was 15. Then I remembered something Wendla said about pills she was taking. What could they be for? They weren't for the naseau obviously. If Wendla said the incident on the deck was nothing, I couldn't imagine what the rest of the trip and pregnancy would be like. At that moment Wendla emerged from the bottom bunk. She looked a bit green in the face again.

"Wendla? What were those pills for you were talking about earlier?"

" Oh," she replied, still half asleep. "They're for anemia."

This was awful. She handed me the pills there were only pills left for maybe a week. Behind the green hue across Wendla complextion was just paleness. I could see in her posture, she was having some trouble balancing herself.

" If you don't mind, Melchi, I'm going to change out of this dress. I've been wearing it for two days, now."

I nodded. She started unbuttoning her dress, which was blue with the tiny flowers. Even after what we went through together, seeing a girl undress got me a tad excited. The blue dress dropped to the floor and I looked at Wendla. She was wearing the little romper that I distinctly remember untying the top of. Then I saw it. It was barely a curve. There was a bulge on Wendla's otherwise small and flat stomach. It filled in the slip just enough to be visible now. When Wendla picked up another dress, she ran her hand over her belly lightly and smiled. I suddenly realized something. I hopped off the bunk and hugged Wendla. I kissed her forehead.

" We can do this."


	4. Chapter 4

"We can do this." He said.

I didn't hug him back. I was happy to be with him. When we talked in the woods, there was something between us that I had never experienced. He had genuine interest in what I had to say, which I don't think anyone ever had before. With him, I challenged myself to think. Did I even think about this? I was 14 and ran off with my childhood friend, not to mention the fact of the child. I wasn't so sure we could do this. How could we? I unwrapped myself from his arms.

"How do you know?" I said, softly.

_Frau Gabor woke up early. She made breakfast and coffee for her husband, who wasn't awake yet. She let her mind wander to her son, who was miles away, in a Reformatory. The tears stung her eyes at the single thought. She placed the plate on the table for her husband and poured two cups of coffee. She hadn't really been able to eat since he left. He was her life. She could listen to him go on and on about books or society and even if she didn't always agree with him, she was always left impressed and proud that he was her son. She heard footsteps on the stairs. She saw her husband. He and Melchior would debate about politics and life in general on occasion but they didn't have a relationship. He sat down at the table and tentatively looked at her._

"_Darling," he said, " There seems to be a few bills missing from our checkbook. Do you think I left them somewhere?"_

"_I haven't an idea."_

" How do I know what?"

"How do you know that we can get by? We're on a ship to a country, where we do not the language. We don't know the people. We have no place to live. Neither of us have an idea of a job. We're only 14 years old." I crossed my arms in the same way I had seen my mother do.

Melchior looked at me, completely defeated. There was a long, lingering silence.

"I guess I don't." He finally said.

He sat down on the bottom bunk and placed his head in his lap. I hadn't moved a centimeter and my arms were still crossed. I just stared into space because in all honesty I didn't know what else to do. I was furious with him. He knew exactly what would happen if we had sex. He most likely knew that I didn't know what it was and what its results were. He very well could have sent our baby and me to a grave. He was informed and I was not. I was on this huge boat, heading for a foreign country. There was no turning back, which scared me to death. I had made a decision to be with him in the hayloft before this and I made the decision to be with him through this journey. I had made these decisions, on my own. I had to take responsibility. I wasn't sure if we could make it work but sure as Hell we would try. I eventually looked at him and was surprised to see, he was crying as quietly as he could. I sat on the bed with him. He looked at me with his eyes bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep. I hugged him out of habit. It was a simple gesture but it helped. I could feel his tears on my bare shoulder and it triggered my tear ducts, too. There we were. In the steerage section of a ship, holding each other, crying. It was the first moment of the whole experience that felt real. After being intertwined in each other's arms for a while, we mutually loosened our grips. I looked at his tear-stained face. The way he looked at him reminded me of when we were children. He always did have a lot of conviction in his face but it was brought out when he was upset. He swung his legs onto the bed but didn't let go of my hand. I wiggled my hand away from his but sat there. Melchior placed his hand on the bed and drifted off to sleep. I didn't get up because I myself was tired and when people sleep, they're at peace. At that point I missed seeing people at ease. Whenever I saw my mother, which wasn't that much, especially after the doctor had visited, she was extremely tense. When I would greet her, I would get no reply. At mealtimes, she would drop the plate in front of me. After Moritz passed, all of my friends, except for Thea, were all distant and edgy in disposition. I admit I was no pleasure either.

I tried to climb up to the top bunk. I wasn't quite tall enough and my flexibility was now a smidge limited. I lost my grip and stumbled onto the other set of bunk beds, obviously making a clatter. Melchior opened his eyes, saw me in a bit of disarray and smiled just enough for me to get annoyed. He scooted over next to the wall and patted the space next to him. I was too tired to care and lied down under the cover. I went to sleep just thinking about my mother and how irate I was with her and if she was worried about me. She may very well had been relieved. I was relieved to be away from her, too.

I woke up not knowing where I was. Melchior was next to me and still in a deep sleep. I slipped out of bed and saw another set of bunk beds with two women. Then, it all came back to me. I realized I'd never put on a dress. I got dressed as quietly as possible and snuck out the door trying not to disturb anyone. I climbed up the entrance to the deck and saw the sun coming over the horizon. The sky was pink and the wind was blowing. All that was I could see was the ocean but an ocean has to lead to something, I remember thinking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey all! I am profusely apologizing that I haven't been updating regularly. I'm an awful person or at least an awful fanfic writer. There I said it. Anywho, I've decided to speed the story up a little. So this chapter is going to be from Melchior's point of view. **

After 9 days, we had arrived in New York City. I had been studying the English book from my father's den, trying to pick up some key phrases, just to get by for the meantime. The ride over wasn't ideal but it got us there. Food for steerage passengers wasn't enough to sustain someone for an hour let alone 9 days. Wendla needed food more now than ever. Whenever she would eat and scrape her plate for whatever was left, a enormous wave of guilt ran over me. I had taken her away from a home where she would never, ever be hungry but at the same time I knew I had saved her, our child and possibly myself. It was hard to deal with myself at first but I knew it would be harder if I hadn't done anything about it. So I gave her my small plate of food. She looked at me as if she couldn't accept it but she couldn't help herself and I didn't blame her. She had to keep her strength up as much as she could. However, no matter how much she had to eat, it would come back up over the railing on our walks around the boat. She had run out of medication for anemia. We had established a routine of walking around the boat. We would walk around the boat from when we got up until mid-afternoon. By then we would walk down to the room where Ingrid and Judith would be. They were quiet but judgmental, nonetheless. Wendla would sleep when we got back and I would read from the English first day or so of traveling was awkward. It's hard to find words to say to each other after you both ran away from your home country. By the next day, though, we had slipped back into a friendship that was simply forgotten. We talked about our friends, except for Moritz, as if they were just playing all together a little ways away. It was fun. As we continued talking, we also started talking about more serious matters like politics and society. It reminded of when we met in the woods that time and she had taken me by surprise, with her theories and opinions. I was shocked in the best way possible that I wasn't the only person in the world that felt differently then how I was taught.

Finally, one day, while taking a break during our walk around the deck, we had sat down on a bench. We held hands and an almost electric pulse ran up my hand. It was strange that we had developed into this certain relationship but I didn't mind one bit. We were just looking at the horizon. Before I knew it, people were running to the side of the boat, exclaiming and pointing and crying. There it was, the Statue of liberty and our beacon of hope. I was left speechless but Wendla turned to me and said in perfect English " We did it."

_Anna woke up the way she did, any other day. She missed Wendla desperately. She didn't understand how someone could be so sick that they weren't allowed out for a month. To Anna, Wendla was her greatest friend. Thea just gabs for eternity. Martha is a shell ,given what her father does to her. Wendla was a friend. Sometimes, she was able to voice ideas ranging from what to play to things about the world that Anna felt to but wasn't brave enough to say. She wanted to be more like her. Neither of them were like the other girls. Anna was able to see beyond their little town. Thea and Martha were trapped, which Anna could see and even though she loved them, she couldn't stay or pretend she wanted to be here anymore. In comparison, her family was normal. She was the youngest of 6 sisters. Her father made shoes and her mother stayed home. Anna knew she couldn't stay._

I had never been happier to pack up my things. I'm not sure I was ever this happy. Getting away from those women, starting anew. Wendla seemed excited too. The waves and motion didn't really agree with her stomach. She was so ecstatic that we were one of the first people off the boat. We followed the crowd into this castle-like building. Once inside, we got on a line. They took our basic information. The person must have thought we were relatives. Then, they split us up for physicals. I waited for Wendla before we had to get on another line. She came out and was staring at something on her sleeve.

"What is it?"

"They marked my dress with chalk," she said with a frown.

It looked like the letter P. That's odd, I thought but she clasped my hand and hers together and we went on our way. From our place in the next line, I could see another one. It had some strange looking people. Some looked sickly. Then, I realized that they all had chalk markings on their clothes.

"Wendla," I said, as we were getting closer to the front of the last line " rub the chalk off of your dress, quickly."

"Melchi, the woman said it was very important. I'm not sure that's a great id-,"

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded and saw where I was going with this. She made it disappear immeadiately. We got to the front and saw a plump, middle aged man there. He asked for the same basic information.

"May I see your sleeves, please?"

We handed our wrists over and he examined them. He seemed satisfied. With that, he stamped some miscellaneous papers, handed them over.

Then he said, " Welcome to America."

PLEASE review! I don't want to have to implement a review quota per chapter but I'm not above it. So review, por favor!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey! I'm trying to be a good fanfic writer and keep up with my entries but only if people keep reviewing. This is Wendla's chapter.

"Welcome to America."

The next thing I know, we're on another boat to get to Manhattan. We're quiet but exhausted. My illness only got worse with the waves, which made me extraordinarily tired. After we got off the boat, we just stood there. At first I thought we were taking in our new life. There were all kinds of people all around us and I was lost in fascination. Then, I realized we had no place to go. The sun was setting and I could barely keep my eyes open. Melchior looked calm over all but his eyes were absolutely frantic. He was overwhelmed. I was too but I was too tired to even think about it. We were still standing. I decided that I would figure it out myself. I grabbed Melchi's hand.

"C'mon!" I said.

"Wendla, where are we going? I don't think it's a good idea to go this way."

I stopped and snapped.

"Do you have a better plan? I say we just find somewhere to sleep tonight and start anew tomorrow. Sound good?"

He merely nodded and walked with me, never letting go of my hand. I was clearly the leader on this particular adventure. The sun had set when I decided we should stop for a break. Melchior sat down on the grass and I tried to as well but had great difficulty, which was probably due to the baby. By then, I was experiencing some of the difficulties of pregnancy. My muscles were cramping and I was less flexible. Melchi then got up and helped me sit. We were facing a river and he reached for my hand again. He laid back and I followed his lead.

" I promise, Wendla, I will never leave you or our child. I promise that we will always be alright." Melchior said, obviously a bit emotional.

" Melchi, I promise the same thing. This is a crazy situation that we're in but I think we may be able to handle…"

And he was asleep. I opened the pocket of my suitcase form where I was laying and looked at the stamped papers. They had my name, age, height, weight and on and on. Below that information, was the date, June 29th 1892. I smiled to myself, partially at my stupidity for doing this and partially at my pride in myself for being able to do it. So far, anyway.

July 2nd 1892

We were still looking for a place to live. It wasn't easy even though we'd tried to learn from the English book. We'd been sleeping by the river, which I actually enjoyed. I liked the air and slight breeze. It wasn't just as who had the language issue. Most of the landlords didn't speak English or German, for that matter. We were still looking for work. A home was our main concern though. We walked into a building with a broken front door, which had a sign that read in English "open apartment." We knocked on the door of the landlord or I should landlady. She was shorter than I and decades older, probably around the age of 80. She only spoke German, which was fine. We explained we were looking for an apartment and without asking any questions, she led us up to the 6th and top floor. She swung open the door, handed Melchior a key and said rent was $7 a month and that it was due at the end of the month. She turned around and slammed the door. The apartment was not the greatest but more then suitable. There was a small chimney, which connected to the rest of the building and kettle over it. There was a pot belly stove in the corner. The windows faced across the street, which meant more windows. There was a tub in which a guess was designated as the kitchen and a toilet towards the back of the apartment.

This is it, I thought. This is where we are going to stay. Forever, I hoped.

_Forever, he thought. He would never get out of this God forsaken town. Hanschen couldn't stand it anymore. All of the people that had entertained him had gone. Moritz did himself in, which was a shame to Hanschen, for he loved to watch the frazzled Mortiz struggle. He found Melchior hilarious. He tried to bombard the order of things. He questioned his teachers outright, which led to being hit. He tried to help Mortiz to make sense of himself, which led to being sent away. Hanschen needed to focus on something. His family was driving him crazy, school was driving him crazy and Ernst was… nothing. Hanshcen didn't want to think about him anymore. It was a mistake, which he couldn't stop thinking about._

_He had found something new, though. Frau Bergmann had filed a complaint that Wendla was missing. The town was frantic. It was a small one, after all. They checked everyone's houses. They checked the woods and the river. Nothing, no where. Apparently, Melchior was supposed to be home for a trial stay at home to see if he would "behave." He was also missing. Aha! Hanschen thought, This should be interesting. _

"This is interesting," Melchi said.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you ever think we would wind up here? After the hayloft,…"

"No, definitely not."

"Me neither, but we can make it work."

"We will make it work."

He smiled at me. I smiled back. I went to sit on the window and found the fire escape. I climbed out the window and sat down on the steps. It was warm and I looked around me. I saw clothes lines and little children, running around in the alley.

"We'll have that," Melchior said.

He startled me. I didn't even hear him sit down a few steps below. Then I hugged him close to me, with his head against my breast.

July 31st, 1892

It was such a hot summer. I couldn't even believe it. We slept with the windows wide open and took ice cold baths. I had tried to make our home as nice as possible. Most of the furniture I found was on the street somewhere. When I told Melchior where I found it, he was rather angry. He had been working with Alaster, who lived down the hall. They sold the next morning's newspaper in the theatre district after the shows. At a nickel a paper, it wasn't easy. Alaster had immigrated here from Ireland, with his wife, Oona. We had all become friends. Everyone in the building was a big family. On the first floor, there was Mrs. Tammaro, the land lord, the Yosefs, from Lituania, the Jacobas, from Holland, the Gevova's from Spain, the Elipidas from Greece and last but certainly not least the Diamaids from County Mayo, Ireland. Oona and I especially became close. They had 7 children already, with both parents at 24. She even helped me find a job, where she worked. We worked for this rich woman, Jacqueline Howard. Oona and I maintained her clothing and helped her get ready to go out every night. Then when work was done. Around 11, when all of the clothes would be taken care of and put away, we would meet up with Alaster and Melchior and take the subway home, which was located on 514 East Houston Street. We would get home around midnight. By then, the Diamaids eldest daughter, Moyna, who was 8 years old, had put everyone including herself to bed. We would split up into our own apartments and Melchior and I would count the money he had made and on Fridays we would combined it with my weekly paycheck. We managed to make up the first month's rent with $2 to spare. Some night we ate, other's we didn't. We were getting by fairly well.

We worked hard but we had fun. We would talk about anything under the sun, just like on the boat. My favorite thing to talk about, though, was the baby. It just made me so happy. We would spend hours talking about what they would be like, how they would look and if they were a boy or girl. It was simply wonderful, when his face would light up when I would mention him or her and how he would smile. I don't know it was just… nice.

PLEASE REVIEW! Lemme know if it's over the top or over dramatic or anything!


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! So happy to get the feedback and to know people are reading.

Thegirlsmiles ~ There were a few subways that were in operation back then, most notably the Lexington Avenue Line, which is the oldest subway structure in New York to this day. However, much like today, the subway doesn't service the Lower East Side very well. With the language thing, at first I was trying to use more accurate language to the time but it seemed simply…simpler to use more modern language. I love the idea about the stereo thing, though. I definitely took a good amount of creativity to the story….

Theamazingmolly~ This will make me sound like such a noob but what's a beta?

Melchior's Chapter

Semptember 19th, 1892

I woke up to the smell of bacon. I hadn't smelled anything like that since I left home. I turned on my back on the make shift bed we had created. Alaster and Alex Elipidas helped me with the sawing and binding. It didn't turn out half bad, actually. We did the best we could with some miscellanous couch cushions, a window pane without the window and some scrap metal. Wendla went to a wholesale fabric store with Oona and got enough fabric for sheets, curtains and any extra clothing we would need. We made the best of the situation, and the best wasn't so bad. The smell got strong and stronger so I sat up and opened my eyes to see Wendla with two plates of bacon and eggs from the stove. She had the biggest smile.

" Happy birthday!," she squeed.

How could I have been such a fool to forget my own birthday?

"Thank you," I said.

She sat down on the bed and handed me a plate from the set Mrs. Yosef had given us when she was cleaning out her kitchen after Mr. Yosef, has passed.

"Oh, God," I said, after taking a bite.

"What? Did I cook them too long? Not enough?" Wendla asked inquisitively and visibly upset.

" No, no," I chuckled. " They're great."

"Really?" She said with tears in her eyes.

"Really," I said, finishing them.

" I just want today to be good. I've been planning for today and I just want it to go well."

" I'm sure it will be."

She smiled again and it assured me all was well. I didn't have to go to work today because the theatres were dark, given that it was a Monday. Wendla's boss was away on "holiday" and only took a small amount of staff but she paid everyone so they wouldn't leave for other work.

" Come, get dressed, it's a beautiful day and we're going out," Wendla said as she took my plate to the sink.

" Yes, ma'am," I joked, which made her giggle.

That alone made my day. I got dressed and Wendla already was. She took my hand and we walked down the stairs and out of the apartment. We wound our way through some streets and we came to a stoic and very elegant building. Wendla turned to me, as if I was supposed to understand immeadiately.

"What am I missing?"

" Well, this is or eventually will be the New York Public Library. There are a lot of details but anyway, I've arranged for you to be the first member of library even though it doesn't technically exist. So we're here to get your very own library card!"

" Wendla, how did you do this?"

" I don't know I just figured it out. I read in the paper that they are planning opening a major library system in a few years and so on and I don't know. I just figured it out."

If anyone could manage to do this, it was Wendla. Her English was progressing just as fast or maybe even faster than mine. She was one of the most determined people I have ever known. We walked in, hand-in-hand. There were many crates and one lone desk.

" Hello, Mabel." Wendla said.

" Hello, Wendla. Is today the day for the library card?" Mabel asked, happily.

Wendla nodded and Mabel handed the card over with a pen. She instructed me to sign it on the white strip on the back. I did so.

"Congratulations, you are the first official member of this library!"

"Thank you," I said.

With that, Mabel waved and we left.

"Wendla," I cried " this is absolutely incredible!"

I was so happy I didn't know what to do with myself. I saw her smiling so much that I couldn't help but kiss her. I felt awkward about it at first because she pulled back.

" No, sorry," she said. " You just took me by surprise."

"_You just took me by surprise." Martha said, in the woods, where she thought no one could find her. They could though. _

" _Oh, I'm sorry," her father said._

"_It's fine. What brings you out here?"_

"_Well, I know you were close to Wendla, so I thought I should let you know that they've given up on her investigation, along with Melchior's. They can't find anything. They've looked all over Germany but nothing. I'm sorry, Martha."_

_Martha was sorry, too. She was always sorry. Sorry about what occurred with her father, about her grades and now about her friend. She felt as if she was a stigma, which, if anyone came in to contact with, would be effected. She wanted help from Ilse, for she knew that they had similar experiences. Ilse ran away. Martha sought to take solace in her studies. Her grades went down. She had told her friends, or what remained of them, about the beatings and she refused help from everyone, especially Wendla, who also ran away. There was no end in sight for Martha. Not only was it impossible for her to run away, given that her father was the Constable of the District, but she couldn't wait until she was of age to leave. She was trapped. The only thing she could keep doing with assistance from her father, of course, was to leave herself numb._

"Do you feel it?" Wendla asked.

" Almost." I said, while my hand, guided by her's, travelled the sphere that Wendla's stomach had become.

All of a sudden, I felt it. The actual touch felt dull and distant but it sent electricity up my arm.

The next day, I couldn't stop myself from telling Alaster. He nodded and smiled, when appropriate.

Finally, he asked " how old are you, boy?"

" Fifteen," I said, confused.

" I was about your age when Moyna was born. I was so in love with Oona and I still am. I'll tell you, though, kids don't make the love thing easy. They don't make anything easy. Don't tell Oona I ever told you this, but for about a year after Moyna was born, we were homeless. I mean, really? Who's going to hire some Irish kids with a kid? We had no skills. We had nothing. I'm not saying we're in the lap of luxury or nothing but we've figured things out. It's gonna be a struggle, for sure. Hopefully,though, you and Wendla will be as happy as Oona and I are. We didn't have anyone to help us but we'll help you."

"Thanks, that means a lot."

"No problem, kid. But how far along is Wendla, like six months? Just you wait, friend. I've survived, what… seven pregnancies. Let's just say living homeless for a year was comparable to a few pregnancies. Especially when you're so young.

After that, my breathing became erratic and my face became flushed.

October 28th, 1892

Alaster was right. Weeks after his and my conversation, things went down hill. She had trouble walking. To get up and down the stairs, Wendla would have to lean on me, which was no easy matter for anyone. This action became less and less frequent because of the difficulty level. Wendla going to work became out of the question, which led me to take a job at the soon to be library. It brought in sufficient money but I was almost never home. I must say that our neighbors were phenomenal in helping us, be it with food or helping Wendla every now and then. Wendla was trying so hard to stay positive but it wasn't always enough.

One night I came home late from selling newspapers. Wendla was lying down on our bed, sobbing. I lied down behind her and put my arm around her body, although my hand didn't quite make it to the new end of her stomach.

" Are you alright?" I asked

" I don't know," she said, trying to catch her breath.

"What don't you know?"

" I don't know why I'm here. I don't know if I can finish this. I don't know if I can raise a child. I don't know anything. Jesus."

This was a side I had never or rarely I seen of Wendla before. I was why she was angry. I was the reason she was here and expecting a child.

" I don't know if my body can take it anymore. It's petty to say but I feel so ugly. My clothes barely fit me."

" Well, I promise you like I've promised you before, that we will get through this together. I know we're low on food but I know we have thread, scissors and needles so you can let your dresses out. I'll help you, if you want."

She giggled. " That would be absolute hilarity. "

This was followed by more giggles. With that, Wendla started to turn on her back towards me. She bit her lip, so I knew she was about to ask me something.

"Melchi, can I have a favor?''

" Of course," I said, lacing my fingers through hers as I repositioned my body to accommodate her new form.

" Can you just kiss me? For a while."

"I think I can manage that."


	8. Chapter 8

Hell party people! So, I know this has taken a while but I wanted to be especially careful with this chapter. You'll see why. It was a bit tricky but I tried.

Wendla's Chapter

November 17th, 1892

I had to stop working. I missed having a purpose, even if it was just to help Mrs. Howard get ready for an event at one person's house or to go to the opera. Mrs. Howard was surprisingly nice about the whole thing. She let me keep my job until the baby was born. I suppose Oona had explained my condition. It was times like these I wondered if my mother would have been helpful. In all honesty, I didn't miss her. I realized that she suppressed me to the point that I'm not sure what I would've done with myself. After wondering about my mother, I also realized that she was the one who wanted to be rid of my baby, who I already loved more than words could express. However, as much as I loved this baby and I loved our neighbors, I couldn't stand when people would come over and just go on and on about when they had children. In my new spare time, I had been reading the paper. I knew what was going on in the world. I wanted to know what people thought about Cleveland being elected or their take on Homer Plessy's arrest.

The only person I could talk to about that was Melchior. Naturally, when you sell newspapers, you read them. He would get home late at night and he was usually tired. Of course, I hadn't left the apartment at all. He didn't mind staying up a while to talk to me about the news. He had interesting ideas about the world. I was curious as to how we had lived in the same town but he had these complex and worldly thoughts. It kept me on my toes though. I have to say I was able to stump him a few times. He had been working at the library more and more, which meant I wouldn't see him much. Since it was getting colder, less and less people bothered to buy the paper when they left the theatre so eating became a more valuable experience. I slept a lot and I barely saw him. I was actually fine with that because I felt like a mess. Emotionally, I was all over the place. Physically, I was also all over the place. My new, expansive body took up most of the bed and I felt bad for Melchi, for he was usually hanging off the bed by morning. Then, I remembered that he and I both created this bed-hog. The buttons on my dresses were popping off all the time. It was better when I let it out a bit. The stomach fit better but that wasn't my main problem.

Oona was very patient with me. I emotionally exploded on her multiple times and she dealt with me every time. She was the one person I didn't mind talking to about children. She offered me advice and stories that will stay with me forever. She told me about the time she almost lost Robby, her youngest son and about how long she was in labor with her third daughter, Bedelia. Part of the stories scared me but I knew I could do it, not that I had a choice. We laughed and cried and by the time she had to go to Mrs. Howard's, I had never felt better. She even had Moyna come and check on me before she tucked herself in. Moyna was overly sweet and very smart. Sometimes, she would ask me for the paper, which I was more than happy to pass on. When the darkness took over the sky, my emotions never failed to get the better of me. I asked the same questions over and over of myself and never came up with an answer.

_He had to come up with an answer. This equation would kill him before the sun came up and the vicious circle would continue with him not having his homework done, again. Between school and praying for Melchior, Moritz and Wendla, it was all Ernst could do to say stay awake during the day. The investigation was over long ago but Ernst knew Melchi and Wendla were together because while struggling to study for his final, he saw them walk right out of town. It was a secret he could never tell anyone. He worried about them, though. Then Herr Sonnenstich would ask Ernst to stay late again. Ernst did not mind staying late after school but he did mind how Sonnenstich would… touch him and how he would make noises while doing so. Ernst just wanted to understand quadratics but he couldn't get a word in edgewise with that racket. Ernst waited until Sonnenstich finished whatever he was doing to ask a question. Then he would bolt as fast as possible back to the vineyard to see Hanschen, who was actually helping him pass Algebra. Before Hanschen, Melchior would help Ernst before and after school with his homework. Sometimes Moritz would tag along, too. Ernst didn't even realize how much he missed those two. Their banter was incredible and it took all Ernst had to not eaves drop. They seemed truly interesting and they didn't quite fit in but Ernst never felt that he did either. He just wanted to fit in._

December 17th, 1892

I just wanted to fit into this dress. Our building was having a holiday party and with my extra time and extra fabric I decided to make a dress for myself that would, in theory, fit. Well, theory be damned. The top was tight. I wasn't surprised and why should I have been. Oona, who was years older and a bigger person than I, didn't even have anything that fit me. Growing into your body as a teenager was one thing but growing into your body as a mother was far and beyond what I had thought. My sister, Ina, got bigger when she had her daughters but not quite as large as I was. This baby better be a giant, I thought. With the lack of food in our house, a baby could never be as big as the volume of my stomach.

People were visiting family on the actual holidays, so we set up the party for a week before. The city had basically shut down. Oona was off because Mrs. Howard had gone to her husband's family's estate in England until far after New Year's. The theatre district was also dark because of the holidays and because of the bitter cold. No one could sit in a theatre for two hours when the temperature dipped below zero so Melchi and Alaster had been around. It was almost seven o'clock so I decided to give the buttons one more try. The top one was fine. The second one buttoned with a little extra force. Just as I almost had the third and final one in, all three buttons burst off of the fabric. I could've started bawling right then and there. I was just so frustrated with buttons, and myself for God's sake. I looked at myself in the mirror and could see the blush in my cheeks and the tears in my eyes. Melchior walked up behind me, wearing his uniform from school. It was the nicest thing he had. The memories came racing back.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"The buttons came off of my dress. Again." I sniffled.

He put his arms around me and was able to rest his hands on my over-swollen belly.

"Well, you know," he said, speaking against my ear, which sent shivers through my body, " I don't mind if your dress isn't closed."

It was funny because while expecting the baby all of these feelings about Melchi, mostly physical ones, came back to me. And he absolutely loved it.

"Melchior!" I jokingly scolded. " I'm not sure Mrs. Tammaro would appreciate it. "

He laughed. " Well then, let me help."

I was suspect at first but he took a green ribbon from a table and threaded it through the yoke in my dress and tied it just so I was covered and comfortable.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome."

We started to kiss and I could sense it was going somewhere further when there was a knock at the door. Melchior reluctantly turned around and answered it. It was Mrs. Yosef, who hadn't really left her apartment after her husband had passed.

" Would you mind accompanying a lady to the party?" She asked.

" Not at all," Melchior answered.

I hobbled my way over to the door because I had the most shocking muscle aches of my life. They went from my back all the way down to my toes. Then came the stairs. Mrs. Yosef, bless her heart, was well into her 90s but even she beat me down the stairs. It probably took me a good five minutes to get down maybe eight stairs. We were the last to arrive at the Diamaids' apartment because of my difficulty. Everyone was receiving each other with open arms and people were especially taken with the size of my abdomen. They all remarked that I would give birth any day now and I readily informed them that I had at least a month and a half to go. We all engaged in light, pleasant conversation and ate little, tiny foods. People kept asking if they could touch my prominent stomach. I allowed it. It was annoying to have people ask that all the time, as were the muscle pains and the too small clothing. On the other hand, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever been a part of to have something growing inside you, feeling it kick and move about.

At one time, all seven of Oona's kids were feeling my belly because the baby was moving around and they thought it was amusing. Aoife, the middle child, said my belly looked like a globe. I couldn't help but smile. I looked across the room to find Melchior in the thick of a discussion with the other men. Suddenly, a sharp pain took over my torso.

" Ouch!" I whispered rather loudly.

A few people turned their heads but then turned them back, carrying on in their conversations. Oona appeared and shooed the kids away and sat next to me.

" You okay?" She inquired.

" Yes, the baby's just a bit vigorous today."

Then there was another one.

"Wendla, can I ask you something kind of personal?"

"Sure."

She whispered in my ear.

" Well, yes. I'm not sure why but I've just been very willing to…"

" Right. How far along are you?"

" I'm not sure. Eight months, maybe seven and a half. Why?"

" I'm just asking because well, when I was having Aidan, I was very willing as well and he was born a couple of months earlier than we had originally thought. "

I looked back on the room and the kids were all asleep in one bed. All of the other guests had left and Alaster and Melchi were talking, over a drink. I felt settled for the first time since before all of this chaos had taken over.

" I'm sure it'll be fine," I said. " As scared as I am, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Well, let us know if there's anything we can do to help." Oona said as Melchi stood.

We were last guests there and it was time to go. We hugged and said our goodbyes. We traveled the trek up the stairs, which was a hassle. We were both exhausted so we lied down, facing each other. Melchior placed his hands over mine, where they rested on my stomach. We fell asleep that way like nights before.

Mere hours later, the same pains I felt at the Diamaids' returned much more severe than before.

"Mother of God!" I screamed.

Melchior woke right away.

"What is it, Wendla?"

"The baby is making such a commotion. Ouch!"

Melchior stood up and his eyes widened.

"Why is the bed wet?" I asked as I looked down, only to see reddish liquid.

Oona had told me enough, that I knew it was time to start pushing.

"Melchi, the baby's coming. Right now."

All the color in his face, immediately, disappeared.

" Alright," he muttered, his eyes darting in every which way. "It's going to be alright."

I wasn't convinced and I know he wasn't either. The pains started getting closer together, hurting more and more. Melchior was at my feet, waiting. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it so that he also screamed but in comparison to mine, it was nothing. I screamed expletives that I'm sure Melchior has never heard me say before. I had never screamed or cursed more in my life. I screamed, squeezed Melchior's hand and pushed one more time. I stopped screaming, let go of Melchior's hand and stopped pushing. The only thing I could hear was my labored breathing.

"She's beautiful."

Reviews are my anit-drug!


	9. Chapter 9

Melchior's Chapter

December 18th, 1892

"She's beautiful."

What more could I say? She was. Then I noticed she wasn't moving.

"She?" Wendla asked, with happiness and relief in her tone. " She should be crying." Her voice dropped into a nervous, melancholy whisper. I could hear her start to cry.

I had no idea what to do. I had never witnessed a birth before then. I took her in my arms and started bouncing her softly. After a minute or so, she coughed, releasing vivacious cries into the apartment. I felt myself start to breathe again, too.

"She's alright, Wendla." I said, excitedly as I walked over to where Wendla was lying.

"She's perfect," Wendla said, breathlessly "but I don't think I can take her. I'm in such agonizing pain, Melchi."

" I understand," I said, not really understanding but I didn't mind whatsoever.

I took out my pocket watch. Our daughter was born at 5:36 AM on December 18th, 1892. I was so ecstatic that my outright fear was merely in the back of my mind. I looked down at the baby. Her skin was a perfect pink and her eyes were shut tight. I noticed it was a bit chilly so I wrapped her up in a blanket and remembered something from biology about removing the umbilical cord of mammals. I didn't know what else to do so I sterilized my pocket knife in the kettle over the fire and cut it. Next, I realized that she was covered in fluids of all kinds. I went to turn to Wendla to ask her if she knew what to do but she was asleep. I was about to start cleaning the baby off when I heard a knock at the door. I wrapped the baby back up and walked towards the door. It was Oona, who started her day before dawn to make breakfast for her family. She'd been checking on us lately.

" Hello, Melchior," she said. " Everything alright in here? I heard some terrible racket earlier but wasn't sure…"

I opened the door more to show Oona the bundle in my arm.

"Oh my God, Melchior," Oona said in a sudden whisper. "She's so tiny and…covered in shmutz. Let me help you out."

Before I could even reply, Oona was in the apartment.

"Oh, Melchior, this is a mess." She said in disbelief.

She had a point though. Everything was soiled or wet. Wendla was still asleep on the bed. I turned around to say something to Oona when I saw Mrs. Yosef peeking in the door.

"C'mon in, Mrs. Yosef," Oona said. "There's a lot of work to be done."

Before my very eyes, they had taken over. Gradually, all of the women in the building were in our apartment. Someone had taken the baby from me and someone else was trying to wake up Wendla. Oona turned to me.

"Melchior, was there something that Wendla was sick with before? I mean, she lost a ton of blood."

I looked at Wendla. She was white as a sheet.

" She has anemia but she ran out of medication." I said, never taking my eyes off of her.

I heard Oona sigh and walk away. Wendla began to wake up slowly but seemed so weak. I hadn't moved since everybody paraded in here. I was stuck.

"Give me your shirt," Mrs. Elipida said to me, out of nowhere.

"What?" I asked

I looked down at my shirt. It was covered in blood and was soaked in sweat. I was a bit embarrassed.

" Alright," I answered and did as I was told.

Quickly, I ran to my pile of clothes because it was freezing. Then I was receiving orders from all angles. Someone asked me to get sheets from their apartment. I was told to get a casserole of food for Wendla from someone else. I went back upstairs to our apartment. Once I got there everything was spotless and suddenly peaceful. Wendla was asleep and the baby was also. The blood had partially disappeared and the rest of it had stained the floor. Everyone was silent. Mrs. Tammaro handed me the baby and they all filed out. I was back where I was a couple of hours ago, standing in the apartment with the baby in my arms. I was just in awe. I was in awe of how amazing our neighbors were, how strong Wendla was and our baby. The fact that we were parents was beyond incredible. I was in disbelief. I got so lost in thought that hours could've passed by but I wouldn't have noticed. There was a knock at the door. It was all of the women, again. They all filed in as quietly and orderly as they had filed out. This time though they all had food, blankets or hand-me-down baby clothes. Wendla started to wake up yet again and everyone started trying to get her to eat. The beautiful blush began to reappear on her face. When she had finished eating, I walked over with the baby. She took her in her arms and stared at her. Tears started to come to her eyes and I knelt down so I was facing her. I kissed her cheek, the first interaction we had had since I assured her the baby was fine. She offered me a weak smile but it let me know she was generally fine, as well. The women all shared stories and giggled with each other and one by one left to their own homes. Oona was the last one left and asked if she could talk to me. I followed her towards our "kitchen" area.

" So with her anemia she's prone to passing out and being light-headed, you know? I know you always watch out for her but pay special attention. Just do me a favor?"

I nodded.

"Go downstairs and chat with Alaster for a while so I can talk to Wendla a bit about you know feeding and such."

I nodded again and walked downstairs. Alaster was just giving out dinner.

"Congratulations, Boy!" He said to me, while passing some plates around.

"Thanks," I said.

" Are you feeling alright?"

"Great," I said. Alaster gave me a questioning look. " Shocked."

"I hear you. How's Wendla?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I haven't even talked to her but I think she's pretty frail, physically speaking."

He nodded and we sat there. I looked out the window and it was starting to snow. I knew then that a new beginning had started and we had to be strong.

_It was the beginning of Christmas break and Thea was so excited. She loved the parties and decorations and food and all. This year, though, she was more excited to be away from her friends. After Wendla has disappeared, everything was different. Martha had become even quieter and barely left her house. At school, she would break down and snap at people, which Thea, who sat next to her, found embarrassing. Anna had completely changed. She said morbid things that Thea did not even comprehend and talked about running away constantly. One day, Thea saw her talking to Ilse in the woods. Thea immediately ran home to her mother to tell her so. The next day Anna said Thea's mother told her mother and that she got in trouble and called Thea a name she had never heard before. Thea didn't realize until then that Wendla was vital to their group. She and Wendla didn't always get along but they were still friends. Thea told her mother that her friends were sad and reacting badly to Wendla's disappearance. _

" _They should not be! God took Wendla away from this town because she sinned and was kissed by the devil. We should all be so ashamed that we once called that girl a neighbor," her mother spat at her._

_Thea was taken aback by her mother's comments but since she was her mother, she knew best. She would go back to her friends after Christmas break and tell them just that. She would inform them that they should forget Wendla because she brought shame upon our town. Thea had no idea why but she was taught not to ask questions._

I opened the door to the apartment Oona was holding the baby and Wendla was falling asleep. Oona stood, passed the baby to me, kissed me on the cheek and left. It was nighttime by then and I was exhausted. I wanted to talk to Wendla, ask her that she felt all right. I wanted to know everything. I sat on the bed and put my hand on her shoulder, only for her to move away from me. I could see her body gently shaking and sounds of crying followed in the same rhythm. It broke my heart but tomorrow was another day.

I looked down at our baby. Her eyes were open now. They were deep brown, like Wendla's and just like Wendla's I could see the hope in her eyes. I lied down and placed the baby on my torso. Together, we fell asleep.

January 9th, 1892

It snowed for weeks. It was frigid but beautiful. With all of the hand-me-downs and knit sweaters for the baby, every morning I would bundle her up and we would sit on the fire escape and look at the snow. For a couple of days after the baby was born, Wendla was in a bad way. I tried to talk to her, I really did but she cried. Oona and Alaster had taken off for the holidays to their relatives' in the Bronx. The building was empty. It was perfectly quiet. Previous to having the baby, I thought or rather was taught that babies were molded to be a person. However, I had noticed that she had a personality of her own. We had our routine, which was sitting on the fire escape. Then, we would warm up inside. Wendla didn't even get out of bed and didn't really interact with the baby too much, which was rather unfortunate because she was supposed to feed the baby. Some days we would venture to the library. The librarians would all hold her and coo about. They would always ask " Melchior, is this your sister?" I would inform them she was my daughter and they would whisper and mumble but it didn't bother me. They would also ask what her name was but the truth was we still hadn't named her. On my day off, I awoke suddenly, when I noticed that the baby was sleeping on my torso, like usual. Instead, Wendla was sitting by the fire, holding her. I walked over to them.

"Melchior, I'm sorry," Wendla said, before I sat next to her on the floor.

" About what?" I asked.

"I've been obviously distant. It's just that when she was born, I thought the pain would kill me. When she wasn't crying, I thought she was stillborn and then she wasn't but the emotions alone were dizzying. I was just so overwhelmed with… everything. I was scared that everything would be wrong. But seeing you and her together, it helped me understand that this situation is possible to figure out. Our parents did it. There's absolutely no reason we can't." She said, tearing welling up in her eyes.

" Don't cry. We can do this. Just on the day she was born, everyone brought food and clothes for her. This building is a family and we all help each other."

She nodded and kissed me. She leaned her head on my shoulder and we sat in front of the fire. It's a moment that's like a picture in my mind. It describes everything I was feeling at that moment.

"And Melchi?" I turned towards her. " She needs a name."

" Do you have any ideas?" I asked.

" I was thinking about Annika. I had a picture book when I was a child and the main character's name was Annika and she was always going on adventures. If our story isn't an adventure so far, I'm not sure what is."

"I think that's perfect. I was wondering if her second name could be Niamh. One of Alaster and Oona's kids was telling me about this Irish myth and how Niamh was the daughter of the sea gods and her name means bright. When I first saw her eyes, I couldn't help but remark on how bright they were."

"Actually, Niamh suits her better."

"So, Niamh will be her first name?"

"Niamh Annika Gabor," Wendla said, trying it out.

"Niamh Annika Bergmann-Gabor," I replied, " we're both her parents equally. There's no reason why she can't bear both our names."

Wendla smiled and kissed my cheek.

Lemme know, is it too fluffy, corny or cheesy? Reviews are the cheese to my writing's macaroni.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for the reviews and I appreciate the honesty! In case anyone was wondering Niamh is pronounced N-eve. Enjoy

Wendla's Chapter

February 20th, 1892

I was somewhat getting used to be being a mother. Let somewhat be the key word in that sentence. I spent a good three weeks in bed, not even holding her. The idea of having a baby is so far from actually having one. I thought about the days when my friends and I would talk about when we would have children. I thought about that and laugh. Even with Ina and her children, we were related and I would help take care of them but there was something about the actual experience of having your own child that was so scary but wonderful at the same time.

First of all, the physical pain was paralyzing. I remember talking about wanting to feel something but this made me feel everything and I wasn't sure if I liked feeling that much.

However, I loved Niamh so incredibly much. For all the mayhem her conception and her being caused, she was the perfect baby. She didn't cry all too much and she was a good sleeper. She was so beautiful and had the cutest personality that as time passed the pain was all worth it. When Melchi and she would interact, I got this feeling of total happiness.

Last week, Mr. Gevova knocked on our door. I was a bit shocked because Mr. Gevova was known to be a bit of a hermit since he left Spain. We had met him and tried to exchange pleasantries but he never answered back. He said nothing as he stood in the door way and I opened the door for him to come in and with him he had a crib. It was mahogany wood and was beautifully carved. I looked at him inquisitively.

"All of my children are gone now," he said. " I want you baby to have it."

I could feel my eyes tearing and wrapped my arms around Mr. Gevova's large frame. After the embrace, he smiled and left. I was beyond touched by his kindness. Niamh had been sleeping in our bed until then. I was happy she would be able to have her own little bed.

I went back to work at Mrs. Howard's. She and her husband had returned from England and Mrs. Yosef offered to watch Niamh. I did fall back into the rhythm of working again and had a new appreciation for. On the one hand, I would've loved to have been with Niamh but it was also nice to have a break, even if it was spent working for someone else. One night before Mrs. Howard left for a special dinner, she walked me to another room to talk.

"How's your baby?" She asked, in her forced and rather pretentious "American" accent.

" She's fantastic. Thank you for asking."

"What is her name?"

"Niamh," I said and was answered by a look of consternation " It's Gaelic for light."

"That's just darling. You know, if you liked, you could bring her here one-day. I would love to see her."

"That's very kind of you but that would be a nuisance for you."

"Oh, nonsense. Bring her, say, in a couple of weeks."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, walking out of the room confused.

"_Yes, frau," I replied._

_My mother was rather irate with me. I had eaten the fudge that was meant for the Winter Fair and before dinner no less. I walked into the parlor, silent and sat down. My father was sitting in his chair, reading the paper, and smoking a pipe. _

"_Well, do something with yourself, Otto." my father said shortly as he handed me the paper._

_I was reading with nothing really catching my eye. I scanned it, hoping to find a picture to fixate on because I read all day at school and just wanted to stare in to space. I saw myself staring into familiar eyes and glanced at the headline reading, "The Income at Ellis Island." There were four pictures, each a simple headshot. On the top row, there was an old wrinkled man and a middle-aged woman next to it. The last row was Melchior and Wendla. I folded the paper in half._

"_Father?" I said before he tilted his head towards me. "Do you think anyone else in town got this paper?"_

" _I purchased it in the city. I sincerely doubt anyone else in town would have it," he answered matter-of-factly before turning back to his paper. _

_I folded the paper quietly into my pocket. I left it there until I ran out of the house after dinner to find Georg._

_Georg sat by the stream, now frozen. He hated the cold but he had decided Anna was his muse and since she had recently taken to being in the woods as much as possible, he followed her. He would watch her with her clumsy but well-intentioned attempts at ballet steps. He watched how her brown boots would peck at the snow and when she would fall, he paid attention to the way she would position herself before she hit the ground and how she would shake it out. He held his sheet music paper and a pen in his raw hands trying to get the feeling of Anna onto the paper. Unfortunately, Anna, to Georg, felt so all over the place now, that it was difficult to capture her. _

_Georg felt a tap on his shoulder, which took him by such surprise that he made a huge pen mark on his music. He turned around to see Otto. His face was ruddy and his shortness of breath was shown by the short puffs coming from his mouth._

"_Georg!" Otto exclaimed. "You'll never believe what I found."_

"_Not unless you show me," I answered._

_He took a surprisingly carefully folded piece of newspaper from his pocket and unfolded it. Frantically, he pointed to the pictures. I heard myself gasp when I saw Melchior and Wendla, in the blank and white ink, bleak as winter. Anna turned around and ran over to see what the fuss was all about. She saw them and covered her mouth with her mitten-covered hands. She paced around a bit. Otto and I looked on with great curiosity and a bit of concern. _

"_Alright," she finally said, more composed. "We can't tell anyone about this. You both hear me?"_

_We both nodded in silence because we were afraid of what Anna would do if we didn't agree. _

"_Otto, may I please have it?" She asked sweetly._

_He handed it over as if he was surrendering over weapons to authorities. She placed it in her pocket just as easily as she danced in the snow. _

"_When was the last time you saw Ilse?" She asked._

"_I don't know," we said in unison._

March 11th, 1892

"I don't know," I said, when Melchior questioned Mrs. Howard's motivation to having Niamh at her home.

" Did you ask Oona about it? She's work with this woman much longer than you and has many more children."

"Oona said she's never done this before."

I looked over to the bed where Melchi was sitting with Niamh on his lap. She was grasping his finger tightly.

"Do you want to go to the evil lady's house?" Melchior asked Niamh in a comical impression of Mrs. Howard.

"Melchior," I said in a half chuckle, " she's not evil. She's helping us to stay fed and besides, Mrs. Yosef deserves a day off."

In all honesty though, when I told Mrs. Yosef that I was taking Niamh to work, she looked a bit heartbroken. I think she enjoyed playing Grandmama with Niamh.

"Fine," Melchi said. "Have it her way. But let's meet during the day. There's a matinee so I can meet you and take Niamh home before you start the night shift."

"Alright," I said, before quickly giving Melchior a peck on the cheek and taking Niamh into my arms.

Mrs. Howard usually slept until noon so I put Niamh in a basket with a lot of fabrics so Oona and I could start of the day. From the dressing room, we could hear Mrs. Howard yelling at the cook, Rose, in the dining room. We had finished organizing the room by twelve-thirty. Just like every other day, we walked into the kitchen to scrape something together for lunch. I had the baby with me so she had to be fed too. Oona and I found something to eat and then I excused Niamh and myself so she could eat. We went into the bathroom and from there I could hear Mrs. Howard yelling at some other servant. Niamh finished and we exited the bathroom and walked down the hall to go back to the dressing room to get things ready for tonight.

"Wendla!" Mrs. Howard's voice echoed throughout the corridor.

She appeared out of some other room. She walked right over. She had never really said my name before.

"Oh, she's precious. Just precious." She complimented with a rather detached tone.

Before I could say thank you, Oona zoomed down the hallway.

"Could you take…the baby?" She said, addressing Oona.

Oona took the baby and kept going. Mrs. Howard led me to the same room as before and we sat.

"She's gorgeous," she said.

I nodded and offered thanks.

" So, did I ever tell you that Mr. Howard and I cannot have children?" She didn't leave time for me to answer. " It's very sad, I know. You're lucky. You and your… are both so young and I know times are tough. So I'd like to make a bargain with you."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I said "but a bargain for what?"

"Dear, well for your daughter, of course."

She said it so simply and I could feel my blood pressure rise and my face get red.

"Pardon?"

'I'd like to help you out, you know. She must be such a burden on you and I would gladly compensate you."

"Let me make some things clear," I said, standing up now, as my voice rose. " The mere fact that you would suggest buying my daughter from me suggests that you are an awful person. Thank high heavens you can't have children. The answer is obviously no."

"Wendla," she said calm but standing also " this would be in favor of your daughter's life, not to mention your job. Please make the right decision."

"Fine, I will. I quit. Good day, crazy cunny." I said and marched out of there.

I sprinted down the halls, grabbed Niamh and told Oona I would explain later. Finally, I saw Melchior. He saw my frantic state and took the baby. I explained, talking as fast as I could.

"She wanted to buy Niamh?" He asked for confirmation.

I nodded and felt my angry façade crack, unleashing tears. Melchior hugged me close to his body. The shaking subsided and I looked up to see tears running down his face and Niamh asleep in his arms.

"Let's go home," I said.

We latched hands and Melchior held Niamh with his other. We got home only for there to be no water. The apartment was drafty because we couldn't find anything to burn. I wrapped Niamh tight in a blanket. I went to place her in her crib but I couldn't let go of her. I went to lay done placing her between Melchior and me.

The next morning I awoke to still no water and frosted windows. I picked the baby up and put her in the crib. Melchior heard my stirring and woke up.

"Melchior," I said seriously, " I should have taken the bitch up on her offer. This is no life for a child. What happens when I can't feed her anymore? We can barely get food for ourselves, let alone another person. This is crazy."

He stood and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Wendla," he said, matching my seriousness. " Never saying anything like that again. This isn't perfect but do you really think Niamh would be happy living with the Howards. Look, I know this isn't what a little girl dreams of when she thinks about her home and family but we can make it work. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," I said, realizing how stupid my statement was.

I hugged him and he eventually returned the embrace. He kissed a trail on my neck and the cold and the waterless apartment seemed to slip away.

**Reviews are the jelly to my peanut butter!**


	11. Special Notice

Hey party people!

So, I definitely want to continue with the story but at this pace, it's going rather slow and I'm afraid people are starting to or have lost interest. I'm definitely planning to pick up the pace, probably doing a 6 month per chapter ratio.

As far as the story goes, I have an idea and I want to know your thoughts. I was thinking about having you guys send in prompts, suggestions or anything. I figure it will hold people's interests and will keep the story interesting. If y'all think it's a bad/good/awful/ amazing idea, let me know. If you like it, PM me with any tidbits you want to send in for the next chapter. If you don't just review this chapter and lemme know!

Thanks!


	12. Chapter 11

So, I haven't heard anything regarding the last post but I'm going to keep going with the story. If people feel so inclined to send in anything, you are more than welcome!

This is the new format. Again, let me know what you think.

Melchior's Chapter

April-October 1893

April 25th:

Wendla was still looking for a job. Mrs. Yosef was more than happy to resume watching Niamh. I was still selling papers and helping out with the library. I felt terrible about this but when it was getting warmer out, sometimes I would take Niamh with me to sell papers. People would look at us and go "Oh, husband, look at this! Two adorable children out here at night, trying to make some pennies for their parents! Buy the paper!" I'm sure if Wendla hadn' t been so busy trying to find work she would've been upset but Alaster brought his youngest kids all the time to help out. However, life with just my paycheck didn't totally cover anything. She was so focused on finding work that sometimes she would be gone before I woke up and still gone when I went to sleep. She had had a few leads but it was mostly men who wanted to take advantage of a beautiful, young, foreign girl, like herself.

That night, I didn't' want her to worry about that, though. It was her 15th birthday and wanted so badly to make it a good one. She promised she would be home early but didn't seem to realize why I asked her to do so. It was a Wednesday so there was no night show for Alaster or me to cover. It was the week of Easter, so Mrs. Howard, being a "Good Christian", let Oona off for the week. Robby was look out from the fire escape, waiting for Wendla. Oona had generously made a cake and all the kids helped decorate it.

"She's here!" Robby shouted, with a lisp.

We all somewhat hid behind the bed or any other piece of furniture. Wendla opened the door.

"Melchior?" She asked.

At that moment, we all jumped up and startled Wendla to death.

"What is this?" She said, no doubt amused.

"You're birthday!" Moyna announced.

" I can't believe I forgot. This is so embarrassing." Wendla said, before bursting into laughter.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter and happiness. We ate cake and the kids played. I decided to propose a toast.

"To Wendla," I said " without whom, I never would've made it. It's a pretty emotionally heavy thing to say but it's the truth. You amaze me, quite frankly. You do so much and do it well, with a smile, which isn't easy. Happy birthday!"

She smiled that beautiful smile that seemed to go on for miles. We finished our visit with Oona and Alaster and in one mass, they were all gone. Wendla and I started to clean up, not talking very much. When I'd finished, I went to check on Niamh in her crib, except she wasn't there.

"Wendla," I said, trying to sound calm," where's Niamh?"

I turned toward her, to see her leaning against the sink, with that same beautiful smile.

"Oona offered to take her for the night."

"That's kind of her but why?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Wendla walked over to me, never letting her smile falter. She got on her the tips of her toes and kissed me. It wasn't a peck or any run of the mill kiss. She hadn't kissed me like that ever. I was shocked but thrilled and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned against me, landing us on the bed. She took the lead and was more aggressive than ever before. I finally came up for air.

"Is this what you want, Wendla? Because I understand if you don't and I won't push you. At all. Whatever you want."

She whispered in my ear something that I would never write down on paper.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"For the last time, Gabor," she said "yes."

June 17th:

It was finally panning out. This life was starting to make sense for us. Wendla had found a job in Brooklyn in a sewing factory. She had to walk across the bridge every morning to get there but the little she was making made a difference in our life. Niamh was starting to eat real food, so we needed whatever we could get. Wendla would be home before I would but she would be absolutely exhausted. Niahm was usually asleep and Wendla was well on her way to sleep as well. I would sit down on the bed, only for Wendla to pop up from lying down and act as if she wasn't tired.

"Really! I'm not!" She exclaimed, suppressing a yawn.

We would discuss our days, which were rather uneventful but we could talk for hours still. I would hold her hands, which somehow felt like a big deal to me, in spite of everything. Everyday, there would be more and more cuts and bruises on them from the needles and machines.

"That cut's very deep, Wendla." I said one night.

"It doesn't hurt," she said trying not to wince from the pain.

I got out the rusted box where we kept bandages and rubbing alcohol.

"How was you day?" I asked.

" It was alright. Oh, God. Actually, something terrible happened. A little boy working at the factory got his arm caught in the mill. He lost an arm. His whole right arm, Melchi. The look on his face made me want to cry, too."

" That's awful!"

"It happens far too often. Before you know it, no one's going to be able to work there because we'll all be missing limbs," she paused, in a daze. " Oh, here's some tea for you," she said handing me a cup.

" Thanks," I said, wrapping the bandage around her hand. " All done."

July 31st:

After hearing about that little boy, I couldn't sleep that night. The thought of anyone going through that made my mind spin, especially when the person in question was a child. I was in disbelief.

The next day, while chatting with Alaster and a new salesman, Nelson, I asked them if they'd heard anything about factory stories.

"Yes," Nelson said, in a thick Welsh accent. " My wife. She… she lost part of her leg. She can't do anything anymore. Can't walk, can't cook, can't take care of our children. I went to the factory to ask for her back pay. They said they weren't reliable. Can you believe that? She works for them for two years, get hurt on one of their machines and they won't give her one more weeks pay." He was starting to cry.

"Yeah," Alaster piped in. " My cousin, Michael, was working in a steel factory. Got caught in a room, when someone in management wanted them to work late. It was full of fumes. He lost his voice. Then my friend, who works for this paper, got his arm caught in the press. He picked up a nasty infection and past away this last winter."

I couldn't comprehend this. I had always thought that these issues with the factories happened some time ago.

"Someone should do something," I said, "and start by talking to whomever runs this paper."

"Well," Alaster said, " who better than you?"

The next day I went up to 23rd Street to talk to the editor of the paper. I waited all day and got ugly looks from people wearing suits. By 2 o'clock, I made it into his office. I introduced myself and he introduced himself as Gerald Abrahams.

" I sell your papers in the theatre district."

" Yeah, you and 200 other people. What can I do for you?"

"Well, Mr. Abrahams, I've been hearing a lot about the poor conditions of factory workers, even here in your own printing press. People are losing limbs, left and right."

"Son, that was news 50 years ago."

" It may have been, sir, but apparently, not much has been done about it."

"What do you suggest I do?"

" I would propose that you take children out of your own factory and post warnings about the dangers associated with them. Also, you could publish an ex pose on the much publicized conditions that are still an issue, decades later."

"That's it?" He asked, breaking a smile.

"Yes," I said.

"Son, you know this is a good idea. Yes, I can see it now."

"See what now?"

"See you walking out of the door. Goodbye." He said simply.

I stormed out the door. I needed to help these people. I needed to do something. I just didn't know what yet.

_Anna had no idea how she was going to get the money to leave this place. She couldn't handle it anymore. She felt as if she was being suffocated in this God forsaken town. Georg was following her like a puppy. She would go with him so he could "be inspired" only to get out of her house. Her mama didn't mind as long as she was with Georg. Georg was nice but that's all he was. He wanted to hold hands all the time but she would refuse. She wanted more than that, more than this. She asked Ilse what she thought about how she could get money. _

"_I hate to say this, Anna, because it's awful but it may be your only option. Are you sure you can't steal any money from your parents?"_

" _Ilse just spit it out."_

" _You can use what you already have."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Use what you have," Ilse said, gesturing towards Anna's bust. "You can pose for painting in Priopia or anywhere. If you get really desperate, you could do other things, too."_

"_Is that what you've been doing for a living, Ilse?"_

"_It doesn't matter. This is about you not about me. I hope it doesn't come to that for you, though," Ilse said, taking Anna's hand into hers, before the church bells went off. "I should go." She said and then took off right before Anna's eyes. _

_Anna headed home, feeling an odd feeling of resolution. She didn't want to do the things Ilse had suggested. However, what would happen if Anna didn't get out? She would finish school or what they called "school," though Anna didn't feel it truly educated about anything. She would get married off, whenever her parents pleased. Anna thought about her mama. She had no goals, aspirations, and dreams or drive to do anything. Her mama followed orders from her father, cooked, cleaned and did little else. Anna wanted a lot else. Even though she didn't want to, she knew what she had to do._

August 8th:

I knew what I had to do. I couldn't let people be treated like this. Wendla was a great help with inside information and she put up with me. I decided to get organized. I spread the word with all the salesmen. Wendla offered to tell people about it at her factory. Everyone in our building was involved, along with their extended families.

One early morning, Wendla and I, holding Niamh in my arms, went downstairs and met up with a large percentage of our neighbors. All together, we paraded up to 23rd street, as the sun was rising. Once we got there, to my immense surprise, there were at least 300 other people there. Some of them had signs with slogans against factories and their policies. I saw the men I worked with and people I knew who worked in the printing press. I met Wendla's coworkers. We chanted together. The sun was high, by the time I saw Mr. Abrahams, with a few police officers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mr. Abrahams asked me with anguish in his eyes.

"You turned me away, when it was just one of me but I figure you can't get rid or ignore hundreds of people, including some of whom, have worked in your factories and were subjects to injuries from your machines."

"Well, son, you're out of a job. And all of you," he called, raising his voice, "better scram before you get fired or arrested!"

People scattered in all directions, leaving Wendla, Oona, Alaster, the children and me.

"You're under arrest," one of the cops said to me.

I handed Niamh over to Wendla, calmly, as her eyes avoided me. The officer cuffed me.

"And you," Abrahams said to Alaster, " are fired, too."

They took me Downtown past our apartment. I was housed in a cell with some drunkards and people who were caught stealing. A few hours later, Wendla appeared. She gave the guard some money and they opened the gate and led me out.

Wendla and I walked out of the building in silence. Still, she wouldn't look at me.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked.

"No, not at all," she said, grabbing my hand.

"What?"

" Melchi, one of the reasons I started to like you so much back home was that even though your ideas weren't popular, you made them known. You don't back down because someone threatens you. You do what you think is right, no matter what. I…"

I wanted her to say it for such a long time. It was completely selfish of me but I wanted to know, for sure, that she loved me, that she was in love with me. I loved her so much but I was afraid she wouldn't return the same feelings.

"You're what?" I asked, almost too fast.

"I'm proud of you, Melchi," she said, pecking me on the cheek.

The statement wasn't what I was hoping for but it satisfied me nonetheless.

October 14th:

"Pa…pa!" I heard, still in the dark tunnel of sleep. I heard it again.

The sun was creeping through the windows and Niamh was trying to stand up. She was learning to talk now and Wendla didn't want to tell me, as she wanted to save it for my birthday. However, a month ago, Niamh said "Mama" one night. I was so elated and pleased, that she was progressing so quickly. It surprised me, actually. Wendla had left already for work. I got up; got dressed, got Niamh dressed and fed her some applesauce. It was a beautiful day, so we walked down to the river, where Wendla and I slept over a year ago. Apparently, a boat had sunk in the river and there were reporters of all kind, trying to get the story. I saw Alaster from a distance, persuading the dock master to hire him. We were still out of a job, since the protest. I felt as if it was my fault. Niamh kept pointing to the boats, with such delightful giggling. It was truly amazing to see this person taking form, before our eyes.

The dock master started talking to reporters and soon they started breaking up. Two men walked past the bench where we were sitting. One of them stopped and looked at me. The other kept waling away and the other came toward me.

"Hey, sorry," he said, approaching me. " You look familiar. How would I know you?"

"Um…" I said.

"Oh, I know. I saw you in the paper. Your mug shot. You organized that big protest."

"Yep," I said, slightly embarrassed, slightly happy.

"You know, they published some of the quotes fro you interrogation. You're very liberal. I like that. You speak well and I'd imagine you write well. You… how old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen," I said.

"Well, if Ben Franklin started writing anonymous letters to his local paper at 15, I'm sure you'll have no problem. You got a name?"

"Melchior Gabor," I said, slipping my hand away from Niamh.

" Will Phillips," he said, "editor-in-chief of The New York Times."

Review are the Ethel to my Lucy!


	13. Chapter 12

Aloha! So this chapter is sad and gloomy and I apologize for that but it will move the story along, I hope. This one took me a while, is a bit rushed and definitely not my best. Failte is Gaelic for Good Luck.

Wendla's Chapter

November 1893 – May 1894

November 12th:

My factory closed. It was overwhelmingly bittersweet. I hated it because of the stupid machines, the windowless rooms and the awful management. I loved the people and I liked having a job. I needed to have a job but I liked it all the same. I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge in the mid afternoon and walked along the river to our apartment. I knocked on Mrs. Yosef's door with no answer. It was getting colder and I worried for her. I opened the door to find Mrs. Yosef in her armchair, asleep, holding a very much awake Niamh. I picked Niamh up out of Mrs. Yosef's lap.

"Hello, darling," I whispered. "Mrs. Yosef," I said, much louder than one would think necessary.

Mrs. Yosef was hard of hearing, even more so, when she was asleep, which was a frequent event.

"Mrs. Yosef," I said, again, louder.

I shook her shoulder. There was no response. I kept doing it. Still, she didn't respond.

"Oh, God," I said.

I ran to our apartment to put Niamh in her crib and raced the stairs to Oona's apartment. I knocked on the door, continuously. Finally, Oona came to the door.

"Is everything alright, Wendla? You're terribly pale," Oona said before resting her hand on my forehead.

"Oona," I said, "it's Mrs. Yosef. I think… I'm pretty sure she's…gone."

Oona ran with me back to Ms. Yosef's apartment. She checked her pulse on her neck.

"Yeah," Oona said. "She's gone. Go tell Moyna to go the hospital and tell them we have a deceased person here."

I nodded and got Moyna, who ran down the staircase.

There was no funeral. She had no family left. None of us were allowed access to the body. They came and got her in a wagon and that was it. At the surface, it would appear she just watched Niamh but she did so much more. She gave me freedom to look for my job. She was just so sweet and caring. I thought of her as a grandmother to Niamh. Niamh wouldn't even be able to remember her. When Melchior got home, he was apparently already informed. Neither of us felt like talking. We just hugged and held hands.

December 27th:

Niamh was well on her feet already and had gotten so big. She needed clothes so Oona and I took a trip up to the fabric store. We got what we needed and went back home. It was frigid outside but we walked anyhow.

"So Melchior's got a job now?" Oona asked.

"Yes," I said," he's been working as a fact checker at the Times and is hoping for a promotion. Why do you ask?"

"It's just," Oona said, hesitantly, " well, don't tell Alaster I told you but he's been having some troubles. He can't find a job and it's really getting to him. You know, the booze. I just worry about him. Maybe, you could ask Melchior to talk to him. Not a big deal or anything but…"

"Of course, Oona," I said.

"Thank you, Wendla. We've been doing fine. He keeps doing these home improvements to keep himself busy but after a while, he'll run out of things to do. He just needs something. I'm not saying Melchior could get him a job at the Times but he's smart, he may have suggestions."

"I'll mention it to him," I said, and then he went to her apartment, where Moyna was watching Niamh, for me.

"Can you believe that it's been a year?" Oona said.

"No, not in the slightest. It's gone so fast and I couldn't have done it without you."

"Well, you may need to return the favor," she said.

I looked at her, confused.

"We're expecting. Again!" Oona said.

"Oh, my goodness, Oona! That's wonderful," I said, pulling her into a hug.

"Yeah, it is. It's great," she said, before weeping onto my shoulder.

I tried comforting her. She hadn't said another word but I knew exactly what she was feeling. She eventually composed herself enough to sit and she told me she was sorry. We said our goodbyes and I went back downstairs. Melchior wouldn't be home until about nine and I wasn't hungry so I made Niamh some dinner.

"Did you have fun with Moyna?" I asked, using the peppy voice that I usually adopted, when talking Niamh.

"Yes," Niamh said, strained peaches dropping from her mouth.

"You silly girl!"

She started giggling. It was contagious and I found myself laughing with her. Before eight o'clock, she was asleep in her crib. This year had been unbelievable. I had lost two jobs and had a baby. If I were still back home, none of that would've happened. If I had survived the termination, I would've gone back to being a miserable little girl. I would've pined for Melchi and would probably never see him again or at least until we were much older. We would both be married off by. I never would've met Oona, who I've come to love as a sister. I never would've met my neighbors, who were absolutely quirky in the most special way. I was happier this way. Right?

At that moment, Melchi came in the door. His face was red from the cold.

"Wendla, you'll never believe what happened today. Phillips called me into his office and offered me a small column. No guideline, no anything. I can write about whatever I want."

"That's wonderful, Melchi," I said, jumping into a hug. Then, a kiss, another, another… and another…. and another…

_And another and another. Anna couldn't believe she was doing this. He placed another kiss on her neck and her shoulder. She was so close to having enough money to get on a boat to New York. After this was far over, she would get her pay and be on a boat. He'd finished now, rolled off of her and was now passed out. Anna sat up and looked at the moon. It was the same moon her mama was probably looking at and it was the same one in New York City. It was just a matter of getting there. He started to stir._

"_Can I have my pay now?" Anna asked coldly._

"_Wha… oh, right," he yanked open a drawer next to the bed. "Here, you go. Out."_

_Anna had never been happier to be told what to do. She slipped her dress on and left. She ran into the woods and stopped against a tree. She counted the money in her hand, and then she recounted it. There was a little bit of extra money. She could probably buy a dress. The one she was wearing was the only one she took with her. By now, it was torn, ripped and missing buttons. She started walking in the general direction of the train station. As she was walking, a figure kept getting closer and closer. It was pale, awkwardly tall and hunched over. The closer she got, the more she could hear the stifled sobs and sniffles from it. From a few meters away, Anna finally recognized him. It was Ernst. She ran up to him._

"_Ernst," Anna asked. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Anna?" he asked wiping away the evidence of tears. " This is where you've gone. I've missed you. One by one, everyone's disappearing. First, Ilse left, then Moritz and Melchi and Wendla. Now you. It's all different now. You're all gone and everyone else may as well be. Martha misses you and Georg, most of all."_

"_How are you, though?" Anna asked._

"_Me? I'm… well; I'm walking in the wood in the middle of the night. Not too good."_

"_Well, what happened?"_

"_Hanschen. It seems he's done with me, like a ragdoll. He's going to university and has decided to prey more on Thea's kind."_

"_Bratty and obnoxious?"_

"_Girls. I tried telling my mama why I was so upset and she told me that I had sinned. Isn't that something? Loving blindly is a sin. Soon enough, they'll want me out of house."_

"_Here," Anna said, handing him the extra money, "when they do or you decide to leave, use this money for a boat ticket. You can start saving your money, now. "_

"_Thank you, Anna," he said, with tears in his eyes but a smile on his face, before they hugged. _

_They both started to walk in their opposite directions._

"_Ernst!" Anna called back, tentatively._

"_Yes," he replied._

"_Are my parents alright, without me?"_

" _I think they are."_

_Anna nodded and kept walking. She finally got to the port, as the sun was rising. The boat was tied to the dock and it was being cleaned._

_Unbelievable._

February 2nd, 1893:

It was simply unbelievable. I stood dumbstruck in the doorway and I kept checking my mind to see if this was reality.

"Anna," I said, oddly calm, "come in."

She walked in with no bag, nothing. I finally got myself to say something more.

"I'm so happy you're here," I exclaimed, pulling Anna into a hug, which she accepted. "How did you get here?"

" I did things. Things I don't want to think about anymore. I'm just happy to be here and away from there."

"I understand," I said nodding. " Let me get you some tea. It's frigid outside. "

I went off to prepare it.

"A baby," Anna said, as I straightened up in shock. "That's why you left town."

"Yes," I said and carried over the tea.

I handed her a mug, while I nursed my own. I wasn't sure what to say next.

"Melchior must be her father."

"Yes, he'll be home soon. Anna, how did you find us?"

" Otto's father got a international paper in the city and brought it to town. Otto saw you and Melchior on the front page and brought it to me. I couldn't stay there any longer, Wendla. I felt like I was dying. I can no longer be put into a form and just be expected to do as I'm told. I need to be free."

By now, she was crying. I wrapped her into a hug. I tried to soothe her with reassuring comments and after a while, the cries subsided.

"Lay down, Anna," I said. "It's been quite a day."

Anna, weak with emotion, climbed onto our bed. I sat at our table and pondered what exactly to do. I didn't want anyone to tell me parents that I ran away. Anna would live with us. She could work at the library with me, if she wanted. Melchior walked in and gestured toward Anna, mouthing, "Who's that?" I grabbed my coat and we went for a walk.

"Who's that?" he said, with vocalization this time.

"Anna," I said.

"From Germany?"

"Yes, she ran away. She's going to stay with us and we're not going to inform anyone back home. Is that good for you?"

"Yes. I do like when you take charge. It makes me feel," he made a crazy face.

We talked about his day and how work was going. Then, we talked about my day at the library. I enjoyed working there but I felt I could do something more rewarding. Melchior and I could tell each other stuff like that, though.

" How's Alaster?" I asked.

Depending on when Melchior got home, he would either go straight to Alaster or Alaster would meet him at our apartment. They would go up to the roof and talk.

"He's really depressed, angry and upset. He turned down the job the paper offered him again. He's drinking too much and is just disinterested in life. I listen but whenever, I try to say anything back he shakes his head and mutters ' I don't know man,' " Melchior tried the Irish brogue and failed miserably. " I don't know. I want to help him so much but I think it goes far and beyond what I can do."

May 15th, 1893:

That bastard. Alaster and Melchi kept going up to the roof to talk. It would go on for hours. Melchi would come home in the middle of night, exhausted in every sense of the word. He was out of control. Oona started telling me how he would push the kids around. He started taking money for weekly food to buy liquor. He even took advantage of Anna. She didn't leave the apartment a lot, which was helpful in watching Niamh but not so great for her mental health. One night, both Melchi and I were working late, so Anna was just home with Niamh. She never answered the door and never asked questions about the neighbors or Alaster's situation. She knew that Melchi and he talked every night but that was the extent of it.

From what I could gather, Anna answered the door and Alaster started talking to her about his troubles. He eventually got into the apartment and he started sweet talking her, merely identifying himself as Melchior's friend. He saw Anna's soft side and ran with it. Melchior and I saw each other on the stairwell, so when I opened the door, we both saw it or them, rather, together. They were tangled in the sheets, naked. I remembered screaming. Once Alaster got enough clothes on, he and Melchi went to the roof.

"Anna, what the hell? He's a married man," I said, furious.

"He didn't tell me that."

"What?"

"All he told me was that he was your friend and that he was 16."

"Oh my God, Anna. I'm sorry. He lied to you. He lives downstairs with his wife Oona and their seven, soon-to-be eight children. "

Anna burst into sobs that coursed through her whole body. I made some tea and left some next to the bed and took my own out to the fire escape.

Anna didn't talk for days. All Alaster did was talk to Melchior and Oona just frowned. The weather was getting nice so I would take tea on the fire escape, where I would hear the conversation on the roof. One night, it was particularly bad. Alaster was shouting and threw the glass liquor bottle down to the sidewalk.

" I can't live like this, man! It's too much to handle. This life isn't worth it! God, help me! I can't take it!"

I heard Melchior's soothing tone.

"It's too late, now!"

At that moment, I saw Oona climb out to the fire escape directly below me.

" No! I'm done!"

I then saw what I never though I would ever see. Alaster's long limbs flailing in the spring wind, rushing to the sidewalk and the broken glass that awaited him. Alaster Diamaid died that night. Oona showed no emotion nor did Anna. Melchior took care of all the legal issues from Oona. He was also very cold. Oona's kids were on a scale of hysterical and sad. Oona couldn't afford to stay anymore and would have to move back to Ireland.

A week after accident, we all stood outside the building waiting for some miscellaneous relative to travel with them. There were lots of hugs and the family member appeared. The kids picked up their bags and I went to hug Oona one last time.

"Failte," Oona said.

"Failte," I repeated, as they turned away to a new start in an old place.

Reviews are the pepper to my salt.


	14. Chapter 14

I'm awful and haven't updated in a while but maybe the anticipation(if there is any) will make it more interesting. Please, please, please review! Enjoy!

June, 1895

Last year after the Diamaids were gone, things were very grim. We had known how important the idea of community was to us. We didn't know how much we counted on it. Niamh had lost her closest equivalent to siblings. Wendla and I lost friends. Both of us had lost some relatives, like a great-uncle something, but never friends. Well, I mean, we did lose… I just…We realized how much we had probably hurt those back at home. I mean, I realized that. Wendla…I just… didn't know. I thought I didn't know. Anna also was among the missing, or rather, the not present. She moved into the apartment downstairs. She was often in our apartment but was so distant it was almost as if she wasn't there.

I had been working furiously at the paper: picking up extra shifts, proofreading, some editing. One would think that people that speak the English language would but able to write it. I needed these jobs. Things were getting more expensive. We were practically supporting Anna. Professionally, I had a lot of people to impress. My bosses were happy. My coworkers were getting progressively more competitive. I had received a few letters regarding my articles. One woman even wrote to the editor-in-chief that the grammar of the paper had vastly improved. Things were great. We were moving up. Niamh was almost two and a half. She had light brown curls like me. She also had those scary, haunting, beautiful , deep brown eyes like Wendla. They were eyes that drowned me. They were the eyes to which I could never deny. She was running around, like a spinning top. For a toddler, she had a better vocabulary than Otto. She had the wonder and curiousity that reminded me why she was here. She giggled many a time but when faced with any question, she was extremely serious.

Wendla was always serious now. I thought that she was upset that Oona was gone. However, it became increasingly clear that it was much worse than that. She was working as a seamstress near the Gasoline District. It wasn't what she wanted but she didn't talk to me like she used to and would come home later and later. How could I have known? I even asked Anna what, if anything, Wendla had said to her.

"Nothing, Melchior," Anna said. " From what I can gather, I think she's just realizing that she's still so young. How long have you guys been here?"

" Three years," I said, without missing a beat.

"Back at home, we'd be worrying about silly things, like courtships. Here, well, you know. Wendla worries about what Niamh is having for dinner and finishing her work early. It's just different, though not bad."

Anna was right. I singlehandedly propelled us into adulthood and I never looked back but Wendla did. I should've known that. My schedule was too hectic, though. The tension at home took up all the time I wasn't at work. Whenever I tried to strike up conversation with her, the reply was as short as possible. Whenever I tried to kiss her or hug her, it seemed like she would evaporate.

When the summer season approached, the editor informed us all that our shifts would be reduced because they could only print so much without the ink running due to the heat. At first, I started calculating how it would affect us. Suddenly, I remembered that it would mean more quality time with Wendla and Niamh. When I rushed home to tell Wendla, she continued to look out the window.

"Good," she said.

I thought it would be good. Eating breakfast with Niamh was the most priceless experience. Playing with her was equally great but absolutely exhausting. One day, I suppose I overslept. I awoke to an empty, quiet apartment. In a panic, I ran out into the street in just my underclothes, looking for them. I caught sight of Niamh in a cluster of other kids ranging in age from 18 months to 12 years old.

"Niamh!" I said, running toward her. "Niamh!"

She looked at me, smiled and waved. "Hi, Papa."

"Darling," I said, kneeling down to see her face, "why are you out here? Where's Mama?"

She pointed up the shore of the river. I saw a pale green dress, covering Wendla's figure, walking with great speed.

"Niamh, you know you're not supposed to leave home without one of us."

"I left with Mama. We did this all the time before you were home more."

I was perplexed. It made no sense. Wendla's shift didn't start until later in the day. I knew that for fact. I scooped Niamh up in my arms and I ignored her requests to go play with her friends. The day went by. Wendla eventually came home before the sunset. She ran over to Niamh and enveloped her in an embrace.

"Niamh," I said "go play. You're allowed. I promise"

She ran swiftly from Wendla and down the stairs. I sat on the fire escape. Wendla joined me with a scowl on her face.

"Why did you let her go play? It's getting dark."

"Why do you let her go play in the early morning with kids, whose parents we don't even know?"

"What am I supposed to do, Melchior? Should I let her just stay in here so she can watch her father sleep? When we were children, we were always running out of our houses…"

"There's a big difference between a small village in Germany and the Lower East Side of New York. If something ever happened to her…"

"You think I don't think about that every day! The reason I leave her with other kids to play in the morning is because I have to work to help feed her so she can live for God's sake!"

"I know that you don't have to leave that early. Where are you going to, anyhow?"

"That is none of your business."

I was in disbelief. We had told each other everything and now she wouldn't tell me where she goes when she abandons our daughter.

"Niamh," I called, "dinner!"

I started noticing different things. I found a hair clip in Wendla's drawer when I was trying to tidy up. I had never seen it in my life. It was made from some sort of medal and resembles the form of a flower. I knew it wasn't her mama's because she didn't even bother taking anything from outside her bedroom when we left. She would change her hair and leave a few buttons at the top of her dress undone. I wondered if she knew how good and how bad that made me feel. I was curious as to who or why she was doing this. Was it to make jealous of someone? Was it to play with my mind? On the other hand, I had trouble…controlling myself. Anytime I would compliment her and try to make any kind of advance, she would brush me off and go "take a walk." I wasn't trying to be pushy or rude but I was still a boy of 17 or 18. Wendla and I used to have such good times together. We enjoyed each other but it was different now, strange even. The joy was gone.

Niamh and I would take walks by the river. She would explain to me different colors of the boats and would say them in English and German. One day, we walked far enough to reach another port. That's when I saw her. Them.

_There they were, standing at the end of the church aisle. It would be done and when that eternal, nagging question was asked, Ernst would not say a word. He would have to bite his tongue but he wouldn't give into temptation. He hated seeing them performing action in tantum, like kneeling before the priest. I used to kneel before him. He used to kneel before me, Ernst thought to himself. He automatically felt ashamed of himself, thinking such things in the Lord's house. One day, he thought, he will bow to me once again. He watched how attentively Hanschen and everyone else minded what the priest was saying. For the first time, Ernst wanted something other than affection: power. He knew how to get it. As Hanschen marched back past Ernts with his head held him with Thea on his arm, Ernst held his head high too._

I held my head high. If I was going through with this, I was going to do it with confidence. I told Niamh to wait right by the lamppost and to count how many boats were on the river. With all the maturity I could gather, I walked up to Wendla and this stranger that didn't appear to be a stranger to her. He was holding her in places that I and I alone had held her before.

"Wendla," I said, trying to keep a civil tone.

She snapped her head around and her face fell. "Yes."

"Who is this?" The stranger asked, spitting on the concrete.

"This is…" Wendla began to introduce me but something stopped her.

"I'm the father of her child, her two and a half year old daughter. She's right over there actually." I said, pointing. "Wendla, I see you have found someone that makes you feel something. Since I don't have the capabilities to do that nor does your daughter apparently, we can part ways now. Nice to meet you."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away with Niamh's hand in mine.

"Papa, I counted 15 boats."

"That's many boats," I said.

As we walked back to our apartment that would be one person too empty, I started to cry. Niamh asked me what was wrong and why I was crying. She tried to comfort me. This, unfortunately, went on for days. Anna was a substitute mother for Niamh. She helped around the house and tried to get me to eat but I was completely disheveled. I sat on the fire escape just waiting for something that would tell me we would survive, that I would survive.

"Melchior, she'll come back. Why would she leave her child behind?" Anna asked.

" I don't know. Anna? If you were in Wendla's shoes, would you have left me?"

"I've never met this anonymous man. However, I can't imagine she would leave forever. She loves you, Melchior. You too just found those feelings for each other before most of us knew what those feelings meant. Give it time."

I did give it time. I tried to get myself back in my right mind. I started to write not for work but for fun. I tried my hand at fiction and non-fiction. It was entertaining but it almost always came back to a girl with dark brown eyes. Even looking at Niamh was almost painful sometimes. I had lost my life in Germany, my family and my dearest friend. In America, I had lost someone I considered the love of my life thus far. Sometimes if Anna was with her or Niamh was asleep, I would walk downstairs, hoping to see Wendla. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't blame her for wanting something other than a tenement lifestyle with a child and a spouse. I guess I wasn't really a spouse either. We had never brought up getting married. I wasn't sure I wanted to but it didn't matter anyway. She was gone and I couldn't even catch a glimpse of her on the sidewalk. I started to take solace in Anna's visits. She was rather bright and very open with me. When we were children, I thought she was pretty and thoughtful but nothing more. During this ordeal, she proved to me how smart and caring she was. There were times when I thought about being with her. I never would've acted on it but it was too complicated to think about Wendla. She was like an aunt to Niamh, who adored her. It seemed like a relationship of convenience but there was something else there. She had sent what I thought were signals, touching my hand or ruffling my hair.

Right before dawn, there was a knock at the door.


End file.
